Tag: rejection

A lot

There’s a woman I’m interested in. She checks a lot of boxes. She’s kind, down to earth, pleasant, and also possesses a lot of the qualities desired by the superficial male. I’m fairly certain that should I ask her out I will get the right answer. She’s a pharmacist, so I already have the line I’ll use. I’ll pick up one of the million scripts that I’m on, call her over under the guise of having a question about the medication, and then say, “Will this medication interfere with the dinner I want to take you out for?” At which time she would of course be incredibly charmed, quit her job, her panties would immediately fall off and BOOM I’m in. That’s some Barney Stinson shit right there.

It’s too bad I’ll never actually say it.

I think I’m done with dating. I’m damaged goods. I have never had a successful relationship. Every relationship I’ve ever been involved in has ended in the friend zone or just plain ended. Never mind the age-old kiss-off “It’s not you, it’s me.” I really think it’s me.

As my ex pointed out to me as she was in the process of simultaneously fucking with my head, cutting off my balls, and tearing out my heart; apparently I’m “a lot“. At the time, I took it as a negative, as I’m sure it was meant. But months later I have a new attitude.

“If I’m a lot then go look for less.”

Fuckin’ right I’m a lot. I’m a lot as a friend, as a son, as a Father, as a worker and co-worker, and as as a Samaritan. I will do great and terrible things for the ones that I love. It’s a privilege to be part of my life because I’m as loyal as a puppy dog and as fierce as a pissed off Pitbull. I will not betray or speak behind your back, I will talk shit to your face and defend you when you aren’t around. I have one speed and that is straight out. I do this because I care, A LOT. I am weary of having to defend my actions as I continuously give a fuck about things.

Nowhere does this come into play more than in a relationship. In that situation, I AM a lot. I just haven’t met a woman who appreciates it.
I’m unapologetically chivalrous without a whiff of chauvinism.
I want to hear about her day.
She always (cough cough) comes first, in that room and others her needs come before my own. And like in other areas of my life, I don’t look around at what I don’t have, I look in front of me to enjoy what I do.
I’m grateful for everything, I appreciate the small things and I always find something to smile about.
I give all that I have, I’m a people pleaser. That’s probably a detriment. Here are a few more.
I don’t have my own place. I don’t have hair. I don’t make a lot of money. My health is good for now but who knows the future? All or some of these have resulted in rejection in the world of Online Dating.

I am not optimistic that I am going to find the person who is a fit for all that so I’m going to do myself a favor and do the tried and true thing; shut myself down before I can be rejected again.

If I’m too much, then go find less. There is plenty of “less” out there.

Getting easier

It’s been a week since someone pulled my heart out, backed her car over it and then tossed it to the Crows. But I have to say that it is getting easier. It still stings but I have a better grip on it I suppose.

My friends were very surprised when I shared with them my situation. They weren’t so much surprised that I got dumped, but they were surprised at how hard I took it. See, I am famous for concealing or downplaying my emotions. They’ve seen me wear my heart on my sleeve in many areas of my life; Freemasonry, charity work, my children to name a few. I’m not shy about sharing my feelings in most areas. Relationships are different, they are a known sore spot. My romantic struggles are well-documented. While I can’t say that it is all my fault, my penchant for crazy women has been the source of many a conversation. My recent attempts at love, post-divorce, have been messy to say the least. While I have no animosity towards any of them, there is a story to be told and I’m always the one holding the bag. But I famously and typically shrugged it off and moved on with my life. This one was different.
I was in a funk. My friends have never seen me show an emotion like hurt. I was hurting bad and they responded.

Sure, there were a few who offered the standard “fuck her”. It was well-intentioned. They knew that I’m better at coping when mad so they channeled that. Others, those who knew the situation, realized that it was a little more complicated than that, offered sage advice that I am indeed better off. Maybe I am, I don’t know. I would still like an explanation but that’s not going to happen. In absence of any contact I was forced to text my feelings to her. I kept it above board. No insults, nothing nasty at all I simply asked for more than she gave me (by text, classy fucking girl huh?) but she didn’t respond. So I finally sent one long one detailing my frustration and I briefly asserted that I deserved better and that she will find that no matter how many men she dates as she is “exploring” she will not find one that is nicer to her than I was. I know that for certain. I was very nice to her always. Her one response was to ask me if I felt better after all of that and then to tell me that “she thought we’d be friends”. I responded but I never heard another word from her.

There is no scenario in which we can be friends. I don’t need to be that guy that listens to the woman he cares about tell him about all of the guys she is fucking. That is reserved for the gay friends. I’d rather shave my scrotum with a rusty cheese grater. She chose to make us friends, not me. She doesn’t want to be the bad guy. Well fuck that, there is no way that I will ever be friends with someone who treated a genuinely nice guy, sure I have flaws, show me someone who doesn’t please) like the shit that a slug wipes off of his feet. I should have known that someone who went down on me on the first date would burn my ass eventually.

So in summation, I’m angry now. I like anger. I can channel it. And it always fades. Then she will be out of my mind. Just like that. And I have learned a valuable lesson. Listen to the man in the mirror. He knows the right thing to do.

The best revenge is living well. I plan on doing that.

Back in the game

My buddy and fellow blogger Steve of MSich Chronicles paid me the ultimate compliment yesterday when he linked his post to my blog. Just an aside, please check out his blog, he is a great writer and has a very cool story to tell.
I found it amusing because he mentioned my blog with particular reference to a series of posts I have written about yet another failed attempt at finding a meaningful relationship. As it tends to happen, it got me to thinking.

I have been divorced for almost 3 years. For the first two I don’t even think I tried to meet anyone. I was content in being alone as I tried to deal with the most pressing matters of my life: multiple hospitalizations, starting dialysis, battling the Social Security Administration over my disability claim and adapting to life 100 miles from all of my friends and family left me worn down and very cynical. I also think it is safe to say that I didn’t like the way I looked or felt and really believed that nobody would want to be with me. With the additional variable of living in an area where most of the age appropriate single women weigh a metric ton and have a better mustache than I could ever grow, it all adds up to single.

Last year I decided to dip my toe in the dating pool so I created a MATCH profile. As in real life, it was honest and to the point. Sure, I mentioned my sense of humor and my love of movies and blah blah fuckin’ blah but I also touched upon my health issues and my financial situation. By that I mean that I live with my mother. It took me zero time to realize that most, to be fair not all, women were looking for the words “financially secure”. My profile bordered on having actual crickets. Nothing. Zippo. Jack shit. It was abysmal but very telling. I had no regrets however, my attitude was and is that I would rather be honest up front than have a awkward conversation later.
Then I “met” Bella.
A fellow blogger and I developed an amazingly strong bond despite many miles between us. The prospect of her pending divorce and ability to possibly relocate gave me hope and consequently I allowed myself to feel actual feelings for her.
It ended badly. BUT, I don’t regret it for a second. She did me a favor, she awakened feelings in me I hadn’t had in ages. It felt good.

It took me a while to bounce back from that. I let my MATCH profile expire and decided to do some work on myself. I got back to the gym. I started a little part time business detailing cars to boost my bank account. I joined some local organizations to keep busy and be available in the event someone has a sister or cousin they could fix me up with. Then one day while playing poker at a friends house I met her.
She was the best friend of my buddy’s new wife. I was enthralled by her as she walked by and it wasn’t long before we became FB friends and then in real life. We became fast friends and soon we were talking daily. I will admit it now, I read into our blooming friendship. I wanted more. We started to hang out but soon it became evident that I liked her more than she liked me. We talked about the prospect of dating. She wasn’t ready. I don’t think I listen very well because I pursued her anyway. She asked if we could just hang out as friends and see what happens. I tried, I really did. But it didn’t work. She wasn’t ready and I couldn’t operate that way. The sound in my ears of me liking her more than she liked me was deafening. We parted ways. It’s too bad. I miss her. But I have no doubt that it wasn’t going to happen no matter how long I hung on.

So here we are. My romantic woes, as it were, are so notorious that Steve felt compelled to mention it in his blog. And that’s ok. It’s a good thing. And I’m in a better place. My own assessment of my romantic viability has changed for the better. I wasn’t rejected, I simply met women that weren’t right for me. It’s not an indictment on me. One didn’t care that I was broke and both thought I was a nice guy and attractive.
And as usual, I have a trick up my sleeve.
I met someone a few months ago. I did some work for a very nice woman, the first attractive, age appropriate woman I have met since moving up here. She has been quietly reaching out to me through FB and text all along but I did little more than politely respond. I was kind of seeing someone and I don’t like to confuse things. Now that thing is dead, I called her.

We’re going out Thursday.

I’m back baby.

I’m getting better at this

The text came through last night.
“We REALLY have to talk.”
My first reaction was a silly one. I thought to myself noone really NEEDS to talk. My second reaction was to marvel at how silly and funny I am. But my third reaction was a little more profound. I realized that I was faced with what will certainly be another in a long string of rejections as I walk the path towards finding a soulmate and, amazingly, I don’t care.
I’m getting better at this.

It’s been a long time coming. Everyone knew she wasn’t going to come around. Especially her. To her credit, she wasn’t the aggressor. I was. I thought that I could make her feel things she said she wasn’t ready for. I couldn’t. And by the contents of her cryptic text she is probably going to tell me tonight.
I’m ready.
So ready she doesn’t even need to say it. But she will.
“Let’s be friends.”
I almost want to text her not to bother. There is very little chance that I am wrong about the impending conversation and that she is going to profess her undying love for me. Not the way things have been lately. I know the signs. But I suppose I should let her get it out. It may make her feel better to tell me everything that I did wrong over the last few months. Why deny her the process? Let her dump me.
I’m getting really good at being on the other end of that conversation.
In fact, I’m a fucking PRO.

I think it’s time to rip the old heart out of my chest and hang it on a hook. Save the next one the trouble. That may be the only way to keep it from further damage. I’ll hang my dick next to it, after all I’m not using that either. I think I’m done.
If I never hear the words “let’s be friends” again it will be too soon. I have enough fucking friends.

What do I need a woman for anyway?
I have internet porn to poorly stand in for actual intimacy.
I have television to remind me what a relationship looks like.
I have friends to be jealous of for their health, wealth and success.
I have my motorcycle to take to bars to eat and drink alone, comfortable that I will not be approached by strange women.
I now have no reason to shave my beard or dress up.
I can refine my greatest skill…being alone.

Perfect

Hi…come here often?

If you follow me you may know that I endured a pretty hard kick in the emotional nether-regions on Sunday. The ill-advised “long-distance” relationship that I was involved with crashed and burned like the Hindenburg when I went on FB and saw that she had posted “in a relationship” with some random dude. I was shocked, hurt, confused and quite pissed off. I texted her and asked why I had to learn of this on F’ing FB and her only reply was “Don’t curse at me.” I then asked her if that’s all she had to say to me and I then found myself blocked on the phone, FB and my blog.

I was over it the next day. I don’t dwell. My takeaway is that I was most mad at the way I was treated. Looking back on the relationship I do know that it wasn’t going to end well. The only reason I allowed myself to have feelings for her was that there was a strong possibility of her moving here. Once I allowed myself to feel for her we developed a very powerful connection and in the ensuing months I can honestly say that I fell in love with her. I was actually happy for a while. But circumstances changed and it soon became clear that it wasn’t going to happen. But I continued to correspond and support her as if she was my girl. Hence the feeling of betrayal when I was unceremoniously dropped like a candy wrapper.

Every kick in the nuts should result in a learning experience and I indeed learned something. I need someone in my life. I so enjoyed the feelings I experienced during my fling. I felt desired. I felt wanted. I felt attractive. I felt needed. I want that again and I’m not going to find someone just sitting here on my ass. So I joined Match.com.

It was very intimidating for me. I haven’t been on a date since 1990. I haven’t had sex since Obama’s first term. I worry about being a poor candidate to attract someone. I’m not financially secure, not particularly healthy and don’t have my own place. Creating my profile was going to be a challenge.
Hi, I’m Bill. I’m 54, on dialysis, I’m bald, have one testicle and I live with my mother. I don’t have money but I’ll be happy to take you to McD’s and buy you something off of the dollar menu. By the way, the last time I dated Milli Vanilli was relevant. Can I wear my acid wash jeans? Seeking…well, ANYBODY

That was my first draft. I then decided that the one trait that never fails me is my stark honesty. So I went that avenue and this is what I came up with..
This is the most honest profile you will ever read. 2 years ago health issues cost me my job and marriage, ending with my moving in with my mother 2 years ago. I am rebuilding my health and my life. Yes, I live with my mother. Not in her basement, but in her attic and that’s better, right?I haven’t been on a date since 1990 so this is very new to me.I am a doting father of 4 amazing (grown) children.I enjoy volunteering. I’m charitable and active in several charities through my Masonic lodge. I am an aspiring author and an avid reader. I’m a great cook. I love animals. If the sun is out so am I, probably on my motorcycle. I love a good conversation and I have a great, if not occasionally inappropriate sense of humor. Life is a gift and I am trying to live mine to the fullest.I am looking for a companion to spend time with and have a few laughs and some great conversations. If it leads to something more then that would be great.I’m not financially stable yet but I’m not broke. If you aren’t about money and want to meet an old-fashioned, optimistic, funny, sarcastic, kind, grounded and nice guy then look no further.Life’s a garden. Dig it.

You saw the part about me living with my mother, right?

The first response (match) I got was from a 43 year old woman who lives fairly close to me. I was excited when I got a message from her.
“Hi, not looking for anything romantic, just trying to make friends and I like chill guys. We should hang out.”

Not exactly a swimming start. I replied to her.
How about that ? My first response to my new dating profile is from a woman who just wants to be friends…what guy wouldn’t love that?

She was amused by my response and we chatted a bit. I may meet my new friend who doesn’t find me attractive at all. I can never have enough friends, maybe she has a cute friend.

I’ve received a few likes, nothing too promising but I signed up for 6 expensive months so I’m going to be patient. One thing I know is that dating did, does and will continue to suck. It’s just reality.

There has to be someone out there who values honesty, wisdom and a warped sense of humor in a guy. Kindness, caring and integrity wrapped in a scarred but earthly package should have some appeal. I know I have a lot to offer someone, if they just scroll down.

We’ll see what happens. At least I can say I tried.

It’s worse at night

It’s worse at night. But lately the days aren’t any easier.

The endless streams of FB posts of friends and family thriving in life. I watch them celebrate milestones, drinks and dinners with giant smiles on their faces. I am happy for them, I really am but it inevitable comes back to me as a reflection of my own situation.

I’ve been to two weddings recently where my only takeaway was “I wish I had that.”

2 years ago I thought I had lost everything. By all accounts I did. The only thing to survive the toppling of my entire former existence was my optimism. I had a resilient and omnipresent ability to look at my situation as a phase that would inevitably get better. After all, it has to doesn’t it?

It hasn’t. With the exception of a fleeting romance, it has all been going downhill emotionally and physically. That romance was a blessing. She was exciting, vibrant, sexually charged and above all it gave me hope. There was hope that we would bridge the distance and be together. I saw it as a new beginning, a chance at happiness. A beam of sunlight piercing the clouds of my every day existence.

For months I found excitement in the constant texts and phone calls. I found solace in our similarities and embraced our differences. I felt excited, giddy, loved, wanted, desired. I felt like I had a purpose again. I came to believe that we would be together one day.

Then it started to fade. She got sick. Plans changed. She was no longer willing to pick up everything and make a change. With me. Still. I remained emotionally invested. I loved her. She was my happily ever after. A shiny and sharp sword to fight my battles with. She gave me hope.

This morning I saw on my FB feed a picture of a guy on her page. The post was titled “This is love.”

A heads up would have been nice.

I suppose it wasn’t enough that I feel sick all the time. That I am lacking purpose. That I am uncontrollably envious at the happy people all around my island of solitude. That I am out of work, broke and dealing with the social stigma of living in my mother’s basement. I’ve now hit for the cycle and I get to add heartbroken to the mix.

It’s an act after all. To portray oneself as a Phoenix rising from the ashes when in reality you feel like just another burning ember that will eventually die out and end in obscurity.

I really need something positive to happen in my life right now. I’m not sure how many more hits I can take before I finally decide it’s not worth fighting anymore. I’m not sure how many more nights I can lie awake writing my own obituary in my head, wondering if the people in my life would understand if one day I just wasn’t around anymore.

Is this really as good as it gets?